


Aftermath

by RedOrchid



Series: Episode remixes, missing scenes and fix-its [6]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angst, Developing Relationship, Episode Tag, Episode: s02e12 You Are Not Your Own, M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-16 06:10:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11247918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedOrchid/pseuds/RedOrchid
Summary: Alec has just managed to finally—finally—get Magnus off the couch and into bed when there’s a loud banging on the front door.Missing scene/episode coda for S02E12.





	Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> This will likely get jossed in, oh, about three hours, but it was in my head, and then outside of it, so up to AO3 it goes. :) Angsty aftermath of the bodyswap episode. I'd tag it h/c except that the comfort part is sadly insufficient. /o\\. Ice-cream and cuddles, anyone?

Alec has just managed to finally— _ finally _ —get Magnus off the couch and into bed when there’s a loud banging on the front door. The sound makes Magnus curl further in on himself, mumbling words into the pillow in a language Alec doesn’t understand.

“Hey, don’t worry, I’ll take care of it,” he say, reaching out to put a hand on Magnus’ shoulder and stopping at the last second. His hand hovers uselessly for a long moment, before he finds the willpower to pull it back again.

Magnus doesn’t reply, or even gives any indication that he heard what Alec just said. The lack of reaction hits Alec hard; he’s used to seeing Magnus in control—a vibrant, powerful force of nature—not this…  _ broken _ , for lack of better words.  

He gets out of bed and pulls on the nearest piece of clothing he finds, which turns out to be a silk robe in red and gold. The one Magnus loves to wear in the mornings, when he saunters out of the bedroom in a single-minded hunt for a cup of strong coffee to start the day.

He walks to the door and looks through the peephole. Inquisitor Herondale is standing on the other side, flanked by at least four other Shadowhunters. Alec feels himself stiffen, and is hit by a nearly overwhelming urge to rush back into the bedroom and pull on his regular clothes.

Then he remembers Magnus. Strapped into the chair Alec helped put him in, gagged and helpless, with a seraph blade inches from his throat—and instead of putting on his soldier face, he throws the door open, letting his anger and guilt propel him forward as he faces down one of the most powerful members of the Clave.

“What do you want?”

Imogen Herondale’s eyes widen slightly in shock, and then take on a clearly disapproving expression. “The Herondale ring, if you please. Valentine had it in his possession when he was occupying the warlock’s body, so it stands to reason it should still be here.”

“Haven’t seen it,” Alec replies. “Now, if you’ll excuse me?”

“It’s a family heirloom, and I need it back,” Herondale says. He face hardens further, “I’m happy to have my men lend a hand in searching for it if you’re… otherwise occupied?”

The look on her face says she is completely serious, and while Alec knows his worth as a fighter, he’s vastly outnumbered, and Magnus is in no shape of defending his home.

He makes a quick mental calculation and then raises his hand in a placating gesture. “Okay. Just. Wait here. I’ll go find it for you.”

The pockets of Magnus’ coat turn out to be empty, so Alec goes back into the bedroom, trying to move as quietly as possible as he starts rifling through the hamper for the clothes Magnus was wearing earlier.

“It’s on the vanity in the bathroom,” Magnus’ voice comes from the bed. “I found it when I was taking my shower earlier.”

Alec looks up. Magnus hasn’t moved at all, but his eyes are open and staring at a point on the wall. “You heard?”

“I didn’t take a hit to my magic. The wards that let me see and hear whoever’s at my doorstep are still very much intact.”

Alec nods, a new wave of guilt breaking inside him at the empty tone in Magnus’ voice. “Okay. Then I’ll just—I’ll be right back.”

He ducks into the bathroom and finds the ring, then heads back out to the hallway and hands it over.

“There. You’ve got what you came for. Goodnight.”

Herondale’s eyes narrow. “I’d be more careful, if I were you, Mr Lightwood. The Clave is granting you a great deal of leniency at the moment. We expect you to be professional, and not to let your...  _ proclivities _ compromise your work.”

Alec’s jaw clenches. She clearly expects him to offer an apology and fall back in line. The knowledge that Magnus is hearing her hateful words—after everything the Clave just put him through—makes it impossible to get the ‘appropriate’ words out, however, and before he says anything he’ll be sure to regret, he takes a step back into the loft and slams the door shut in Herondale’s face.

He hears her shocked gasp through the door, as well as the cold fury in her voice as she orders the Shadowhunters with her to move out. When he gets back to the Institute, there’s no doubt in his mind there’ll be hell to pay.

He’s too angry to care. At the Inquisitor, the Clave—himself to the point where he’s feeling physically sick with it.

Magnus  _ told _ him what was going on; offered up every proof he was telling the truth; begged Alec to help him. And the worst part is that some part of Alec  _ did _ believe him—his instincts telling him that something about both Magnus and Valentine was fundamentally messed up—but he still... 

Alec closes his eyes, struggling to breathe as wave after wave of nausea rolls through him.

He loves Magnus so much it hurts sometimes, and he still stood by and did  _ nothing _ while his people tortured Magnus for hours, and very nearly got him killed.

He should go, leave Magnus with someone he can fully trust—call up Dot, or Catarina or even Raphael and ask them to take over. He wants to go back to the Institute and shoot arrows from the roof until his hands bleed with it. Wants to feel the sharp pain in his fingers instead of the unbearable, suffocating one in his chest that’s threatening to swallow him whole.

Except he told Magnus he’d be right back, and if there’s even the slightest chance that Magnus still wants or needs him, Alec will gladly take the pain it brings.

He walks back into the bedroom, and, when Magnus doesn’t react to his presence, carefully slides back into bed, keeping a bit of distance between their bodies as he gets under the covers and finds a spot for his head on his usual pillow.

“Magnus, I’m so, so sorry,” he whispers, the words falling from his lips for what feels like the thousandth time. “I don’t know how to fix this, but if there’s anything you need—anything at all—I’ll move heaven and hell to give it to you, I swear.”

Magnus doesn’t respond for the longest time, and when he does, his voice is strangely hollow. “I want to erase the last twenty-four hours and go back to when I believed that you loved me.”

It’s like being drenched in ice-water; a complete shock to the system that leaves Alec reeling. “What? But… I  _ do _ . I do love you, Magnus. So much.”

“No,” Magnus says simply, and that one word punches a hole straight through Alec’s gut. “Maybe you love parts of me, I don’t know. The magic; the way I look; our midnight conversations; how I make you feel in bed. But you don’t love all of me, because it’s clear you don’t really know me.” 

There’s a long, pregnant pause where Alec desperately tries to think of what to say, and then Magnus adds, in that same, empty voice, “And after today, it’s pretty clear that I don’t know you that well either. It hurts that you didn’t believe me, but I get it—Valentine’s a great manipulator—but then you helped Imogen Herondale put me in that chair. You bound and gagged a man in preparation of killing him in cold blood, against Clave orders and in direct violation of the law. And why? Because someone higher up the ladder told you to?”

“Magnus, please...”

“No. Actually, I don’t even want to hear what you have to say to that, right now. I want you to think it over, properly, and find out for yourself what you really believe.”

Alec nods, useless though it is since Magnus can’t see him. Wet heat is beginning to sting at the corner of his eyes, and Alec squeezes them tightly shut in response, swallowing hard to keep himself together, because Magnus is completely right. 

Alec doesn’t know what kind of man he is, but lying in bed next to Magnus, with words like barbed-wire cutting in between them, he knows what kind he’d like to be.

Right now, though, it’s not about him; what he needs and wants can wait.

Magnus is what matters.

“Do you want me to leave?” he manages, even though his voice breaks somewhere in the middle, and it feels as though his heart cracks right alongside it. “I can call someone, if you want?”

Magnus is quiet for a long time.

“No,” he says, at last. “I probably should, but… I don’t want to fall asleep without you.”

He scoots back a little, just enough for his back to touch against Alec’s front. Then he reaches behind himself and takes Alec’s hand, puts it on his chest—effectively wrapping himself up in Alec’s arms.

Alec lets out a shaky breath and hugs Magnus tighter, his tears falling freely now. He presses a kiss to the nape of Magnus’ neck, then another on his shoulder, and his heart aches, because what little comfort he can give Magnus is nowhere near enough. 

They fall asleep eventually, Magnus still in Alec’s arms.

It might not be a be a start, but at least it’s not an end either.

It will have to do for now.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love <3.
> 
> I'm actuallyredorchid on tumblr. Come say hi. :)


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